


A Boost Over Heaven's Gates

by jennandblitz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM Negotiations, Blowjobs, Bondage, Cheating (but the other party knows and it’s okay), Come play, D/s, Daddy Kink, Everyone lives, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Intercrural Sex, M/M, No First War AU, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sex Toys, Spanking, Threesome, handjobs, magical au, no Voldemort AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 04:02:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20650886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandblitz/pseuds/jennandblitz
Summary: Sirius is with James.Remus knows this. He’s known for years. Known since school perhaps, it’s sort of nebulous in his mind, like the concept of the two of them as separate beings isn’t worth lingering on. Neither of them are subtle in any way, both wear their hearts on their sleeves. Remus isn’t subtle either, maybe it comes from growing up in such close quarters with them both, but they think they are smart sneaking off to see each other like Remus and Lily don’t realise.





	1. you're the one habit i just can't kick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [letsdothepanic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsdothepanic/gifts).

> _Prompt 18: Sirius and James don't work as a couple, even though the sex was great. When Sirius and Remus get together, Remus tells Sirius he doesn't have to give James up and that he's more than happy to discipline the both of them into behaving._
> 
> To Gigi, my prompter, I hope you enjoy this poly-WSB! This is my first foray into writing Daddy Kink!  
Thank you to my betas (who will be revealed when I am!) for the lovely work, I appreciate you endlessly, and thank you to the Daddyfest Mods for all your hard work with this fest!  
Title and chapter titles from Heaven’s Gates by Fall Out Boy.

It has always been James and Sirius.

Before there was James and Lily, or Sirius and Remus, there was James and Sirius. Two halves of one, chaotic, maddening whole. All through Hogwarts, they were inseparable, capable of conversing only through a look or the raise of an eyebrow, able to wheedle their way out of all trouble with a twin set of smiles. It surprised neither of them, then, that their connection was so effervescent in other ways too.

The first time Sirius kissed James he knew he was gay, apparently. He’d known it since he was old enough to notice other people in that way, he said later. Some part of him had always watched that Kestral’s Seeker more than he watched the blonde Beater who caught the eye of every hot-blooded Wizard within fifty metres. They were in the Quidditch changing room, high on the adrenaline of a good practise, James in his first year of Captaincy, Sirius extraordinarily proud of his friend. They kissed until they were breathless, pressing against each other, neither of them knowing what to do with the sheer force of feeling racketing through them. The first time James kissed Sirius it was a day later, in the evening, after _so much _deliberation. He cornered Sirius in their bathroom once the others had gone to bed and whispered _I think I like blokes too, mate_. They came together that night, behind Sirius’ bed-curtains, rutting desperately and gasping with every new discovery of each other’s bodies.

Nothing and everything changed. James and Sirius were still one half of the best pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen, along with Remus and Peter. They laughed and joked and threw arms around each other during the day then at night scrambled to a messy climax together, laughing into each other’s mouths. They were each other’s first everything, twinned together through all of it.

In October of Seventh Year, one night behind crimson drapes, high with the prospect of leaving Hogwarts for the wide-open world and some flat in Wizarding London, they had argued for the first time about each other. Sure, they had argued many times before, but never about each other, never about their _relationship. _Every time they tried it ended with blustered phrases and awkward flushes and, inevitably, kissing to avoid conversation. The kissing had come first this time, and James and Sirius lay in blissful after-glow with arms around each other when James brought up what had been on his mind for the better part of a week.

“I’m going to ask Lily to Hogsmeade tomorrow,” said James, his arm around Sirius’ shoulders.

“What? What about us?” Sirius had thrown his hands up, his voice turning pinched just like James always recognised from an argument. Usually, he could talk Sirius down but that night he hadn’t wanted to.

“There’ll still be us, Padfoot. I just… I love Lily.”

“You love her!?” Sirius shoved at James’ bare shoulder where they were entwined. “Fucking hell, Prongs.”

“I’ve been saying for years, haven’t I?!” James shouted back, glad for the silencing charms at that moment, straightening his glasses on his nose.

“I didn’t think you _meant_ it! What about us?”

“What about us?! I love you too, Sirius, is that so fucking hard to understand?”

“Yeah! Because you won’t. She’ll take over, and it’s _always_ been us, Prongs, and then you’ll live with her and get married and have kids because you can’t well fucking do that with me, can you?”

“Can still love you though. I can do both.”

Sirius turned away and pulled on his pyjama bottoms, the faint reddish light of their dormitory casting copper warmth over his alabaster skin. “Not the same, Jamie. I love you too, but it’s not the same.”

“Well what about you and Moony, huh?” James shot back. If there was one thing James Potter knew for sure it was how boundless his love for Sirius Black was, and to have the other boy question that hurt.

Sirius stilled. “What _about_ me and Moony?”

“I know you fancy him. I see you looking. And I see him looking back.”

Sirius had given James a long, hard look. His grey eyes were cold and almost cruel and then he threw back the bedcovers and slipped across the dormitory to pull back Remus’ drapes without a second glance.

James had flopped back onto his pillows with an exasperated sigh. He heard only muffled conversation and a few breathy little laughs, then what he suspected was the sound of kissing before the unnatural, empty silence of a silencing charm. _Fine,_ James had thought, sniffing and trying to drop off to sleep. _If that’s what you want, Padfoot._

James had been dutiful and taken Lily on dates to the Three Broomsticks and weathered one awful afternoon at Madam Puddifoot’s because that’s what he thought she wanted but then she leaned over with a glint her in her green eyes and said _let’s get out of here, if I see another doily I’ll puke_. James loved Lily, of that he was sure, but he knew there was space in his heart for Sirius too.

One day James walked into the dormitory—there had only been a few weeks of school left and Quidditch practise was disgustingly warm in the June heat—and saw Sirius and Remus kissing, sprawled together on Remus’ bed, surrounded by books. Sirius’ shirt was unbuttoned, his hair mussed in the way that James recognised and the way that sent heat coiling through his insides. He had done the typical teenage boy thing of _Oh Merlin, you two! Decency please! _and covered his eyes whilst grabbing his towel and toiletry bag, but he’d caught Sirius’ eye and smiled a smile that he hoped said _I’m happy for you_. Just how happy he was for Sirius, and Remus, surprised James. Sirius and Remus were good together, and James wanted Sirius to be happy. He still _wanted_ Sirius, but he wanted them both to be happy too.

Their separation didn't last long. James and Sirius were magnetic alone, but together? And towards each other? It was impossible to avoid.

Sirius cornered James after Muggle Studies on a Wednesday afternoon. He’d dragged them into an empty classroom, shoved James against the wall and kissed him hard on the mouth. “I want you back,” he’d whispered into James’ mouth, where he eagerly swallowed the words. “I can do both.”

Presently, James is once again pressed against a wall, Sirius’ toned body pressed against his. Everything about the pair slot together perfectly, the same height, the perfect amount of broadness to the shoulders to wrap arms around. They both tilted to the left when they kissed and never, ever, bumped foreheads. Perhaps that was what happened when you’ve been kissing another bloke for five years.

“Merlin, _shit_, Pads,” James hisses as Sirius kisses down the column of his throat and palms a hand over the line of his cock through his jeans.

“Yeah, yeah, Prongs, come on.” Sirius grins luridly and pitches back to divest himself of his shirt before he pulls James’ over his head too.

Laughing, James straightens his glasses before pulling Sirius bodily back towards him and sliding his tongue between Sirius’ waiting lips. Sirius ruts against him for a heartbeat before James grins. “Not before you do.”

Sirius’ grin could cut glass. “We always play this game, Jamie.”

“You love it.” James undoes Sirius’ jeans and shoves his hand beneath the denim to stroke over his cock.

Sirius’ voice is like molasses as he presses James back into the wall and nibbles along his jawline. “You always lose.”

“Liar.” James twists his wrist at the end of one delicious, long, slick stroke.

“80/20, then.” Sirius’ nimble fingers dance over the buttons of James’ jeans.

James snorts. “60/40.”

Sirius bites at James’ collarbone and pulls James’ jeans open. “Shut up and get naked, Prongs.”

James moans and lets Sirius pull him towards the bed. “Shut up and fuck me then, Padfoot.”

“I love you, you git.”

“Arse, I love you too.”

They’re in the spare room. _James and Lily’s spare room_. Never in their bedroom, never in the place where they have sex or sleep or wake up on Sunday mornings tangled together. James knows he should give this up. He knows he can’t have both, especially not with keeping it a secret from Lily. But James can’t choose.

He loves Lily, he’s loved Lily Evans since he saw her, Fourth Year Duelling Club, deflect a Hex from a Slytherin and fire back the most terrifyingly punishing Jelly-Legs Jinx he’d ever seen, all without batting an eyelid. He loves their little flat together, their lives, their laughs and conversations and little quips and the glorious, _glorious_ sex. James has lost count of the amount of Quidditch comparisons he’s made to Lily being a better broomstick rider than he is, despite the fact she corrects him every time and says _isn’t it flier?_ whilst absolutely riding him into the mattress. He loves Lily, loves the engagement ring he's had since they finished Hogwarts, tucked at the back of his dresser. He loves Lily Evans, and will do for the rest of his bloody life.

But he loves Sirius too. He’s loved Sirius Black since they stepped into the Great Hall on September 1st 1971 and Sirius had whispered _here, didn’t realise we were part of a Fantastic Beasts reenactment. Chapter Four, Trolls and other Ogroids, including Mr. Forehead-for-_**_Miles _**_over there. _He loves drinking beer and dissecting the Kestral’s last—abysmal—performance together and getting a little too enthusiastic, he loves the way he can grin at Sirius and the other man knows _exactly_ what that particular smile, the one with the canine puckering over his bottom lip, means. He loves their glorious, _glorious_ sex, laughing into kisses and trading barbs and puns and wit so frighteningly sharp James might cut himself. He loves Sirius Black, has done and will do for his whole bloody life.

James straightens the bedsheets afterwards, still loose-limbed and limber and the hasty _Scourgify_ has left a tackiness between his thighs where Sirius had fucked with abandon only five minutes earlier. Sirius pulls on his jeans and sits heavily on the end of the bed.

“We should stop this.”

It’s Sirius’ turn to say it this time. They trade places every time, dizzy with afterglow and tasting of each other’s kisses. The words hang heavy in the air between them.

James sighs and sits on the edge of the bed next to him. He tells Sirius what Sirius told him last week. “I don’t want to.”

Sirius’ head drops onto his shoulder. “Neither do I.”


	2. I got dreams of my own

Sirius steps out of the shower feeling like a new man. It’s always his first port of call after seeing James. Sitting next to Remus on the sofa of their shared flat smelling of James’ sweat and tasting of his mouth seems cruel. It _is_ cruel. Sirius knows this, knows it as well as his own name or the fact he loves James or the fact he loves Remus. It’s _cruel_ to love them both. But he can’t stop.

He scrubs a towel through his hair and pads through to the bedroom. Remus was out when he came in and Sirius is grateful for a moment to catch his breath. _We should stop this_, he’d told James an hour earlier, just like James had told him a week ago. But he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to split himself up into pieces and leave James with a relic and give Remus only half of him. Remus can have all of him, but so can James. Just like James had said in Seventh Year, _I have enough love for both of you. My heart can carry you both._

Sirius crawls into the bed he shares with Remus and pulls the covers up over his shoulder. A hurried inspection in the rapidly-steaming bathroom mirror whilst waiting for the shower to heat up had yielded a bruise on his throat, which Sirius had quickly spelled away with only a tidy rise of bile-like guilt in his throat. He runs a hand through his hair. Remus is out this evening, seeing Dorcas to compare notes on the Alchemy textbook he’s currently editing—Dorcas got top marks in Alchemy at school, and that was only because James nor Sirius took the elective—but he’d told Sirius to expect him back before midnight. Of course, that meant Sirius had parted ways with James at 10pm, Floo-ing back to their flat and breathing a sigh of relief that unlatched the ever-present band of iron constricting around his lungs for only a mere moment when Remus was nowhere to be seen.

He doesn’t _want_ to lie to Remus, of course not. The same way James doesn’t want to lie to Lily or neither he or James wants to lie to themselves and limit the love in their hearts to just one person. Sirius wonders if Remus would ever understand, or, more often, which one of them he would lose, eventually.

After only a moment of sulking, Sirius sits up in bed and fishes the paper off his bedside table. He’d left the crossword half done at lunchtime, a tactical decision, perhaps, knowing he would need something to keep his mind busy until Remus returns. He pulls the cap of his pen off with his teeth and peers at the black and white squares, happy for the way single-minded concentration comes to him so readily at times like these.

Some time later, the wards of the flat tingle across the back of Sirius’ knuckles and the sound of the Floo flares. Sirius sits up, recapping his pen. “Moony?”

“Hey, Pads. Yeah, s’me… you alright?” Remus sounds sleepy already. Sirius wonders if he’s had a couple of glasses of wine with Dorcas, and probably Marlene, and smiles at the idea.

“Mm, already in bed.” Sirius grins and stretches his legs out, setting his paper down.

Remus’ tousled head appears through the doorway. “Oh. Hello.”

Sirius watches, grinning, as Remus strips. He can tell the other man is drunk for how he leaves his trousers over the back of the chair and doesn’t hang them up. Sirius lifts the corner of the covers to allow Remus under and Remus greets him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Sirius turns and kisses him properly, the love he feels for Remus bursting up out of him.

“Wanted to have you tonight,” Remus murmurs into the knife line of Sirius’ cheekbone as he mouths along his jaw, up his cheek to his ear.

Sirius chuckles and rolls onto his back, tipping his chin up in submission. “Whatever you want, Moons.”

Remus growls appreciatively and kisses Sirius’ throat and slides closer under the covers, his hand flattening over Sirius’ stomach. “Oh, hm, maybe we can…” Remus’ fingers walk down the plane of Sirius’ stomach and his body jolts in response. “We have any Pepper-Up?”

“Mm, should do, somewhere,” Sirius agrees as he sits up and rolls to the side, leaning over to dig into his bedside drawer for a little periwinkle blue vial. Remus kisses along his shoulder blade and down the ridges of his spine whilst he searches, and when Sirius tips back to press the vial into Remus’ fingers Remus downs the potion in one and leans down to kiss him hard.

Sirius can tell the exact moment the potion takes effect and Remus turns from this mild-mannered, slightly drunk editor into the man Sirius recognises, stone-cold sober and all edges, the man with glittering amber eyes and a sly, sharp smile and a tongue that does wicked things and a voice that makes Sirius melt. The air in the room turns thick and heavy and Remus’ teeth leave little nips on the steps of Sirius’ spine.

Remus’ voice slips from his lilting Welsh accent into a slow, sinuous accent that fires on every single one of Sirius’ synapses and has him gasping. “On your front, love.”

Sirius hurries to obey, stretching out onto his stomach and straightening his legs. He leaves his legs far enough apart that Remus will hopefully take it as an invitation. Remus won’t take it as an invitation though, because when they’re like this Remus doesn’t need an invitation, he just _takes_ and _owns_. It’s not the first time, far from the first, far, _far_ from the first time they’ve donned these costumes where Sirius sinks into the mattress and begs and Remus kneels above him and takes and tells Sirius how _good_ he’s being.

Remus kisses down Sirius’ spine and stops at the dimples of his lower back, where his breath unfurls hot over Sirius’ skin, down to the cleft of his arse. “You’re so good, Sirius. Hands up, love, above your head.”

Sirius complies immediately, shifting his weight onto his elbows and crossing his wrists. He knows what listening to Remus will get him, he knows how Remus will look after him, make him dizzy with pleasure, make him swim into that space where his only goal is to obey Remus and earn his praise and make him proud. He can feel himself slipping already, just at the tone of Remus’ voice and the position of being face-down in their bed and his hands above his head and Remus’ breath over his arse.

Remus kisses over one arse cheek then the other, taking his time. Sirius squirms until Remus’ hand presses him still into the mattress with a soft_, _reassuring _shh_. He leans down to press a kiss to the furl of Sirius’ hole, lapping gently at the muscle before pulling back. “Colour, love?”

“Green,” Sirius hisses, trying to rock back towards Remus’ mouth but he knows he shouldn’t move.

Remus chuckles and laps one flat stripe of his tongue over Sirius’ hole, then again, and again, hot breath and kisses and Sirius is slipping and slipping. He moans with every breath and Remus hums his appreciation, coiling his tongue round the sensitive rim before pressing against it. Sirius can’t help but push back into him, shifting his weight and pressing back, pressing back, pressing back. Remus’ hand plasters over the small of his back to force him back down. “_Stay_, love. Don’t make me tie you.”

Sirius moans and tries to rut down into the sheets but Remus has him pinned. He turns his head against the pillow to gasp out a phrase as Remus nips at the swell of his arse on an arcing path back to lavish attention on his hole. “Do it. Tie me, _Daddy_, please.” Sirius only calls him that when he’s desperate and wants to push Remus even further, wants to drag them both screaming towards the stars.

Remus’ voice is muffled, the point of his tongue pressing into Sirius as he hums, thinking, before kneeling back. “Do you deserve it? Only good boys get tied up.” He sounds smug as the pad of his finger presses at Sirius’ hole.

“Yeah, _Merlin_, yes, yes, I’ll be good, I’m so good for you. Whatever you want.” Sirius just wants to please. He’ll lay stretched out here for _hours_ if it’s what Remus wants, plugged and half-fucked and near-incoherent with need and the way his cock is twitching in a desperate bid for attention. He hopes tonight won’t be one of those nights, though. He wants Remus, he just wants him, whatever Remus will give him, he’ll take it.

Sirius hears Remus sorting through his bedside drawer but stays obediently still and heaves deep breaths into his pillow. He closes his eyes and lets the world float around him because he knows Remus will look after him.

Remus lashes his wrists together with silk rope and loops it through the slats of the headboard. Sometimes he ties their ropes with magic, with a quick flick of his wand to wrap around Sirius’ arms, or ankles to wrists, but sometimes Remus likes to do it by hand, likes the slip of the rope between his fingers, the sensual nature of skin on skin. Sirius watches with muzzy eyes, shifting against the bed. Twice Remus stops what he’s doing to tell Sirius to lay still and stop trying to get off by rutting into the sheets. Sirius wants to please but he’s hard-wired to rebel against any kind of authority and he thinks that’s why he and Remus go so well together—Remus enjoys him pushing back.

“Colour, love?” Remus asks once he’s tied and watches as Sirius pulls on the bonds and grins when they don’t budge.

“Green, _please_,” Sirius says emphatically, relaxing into the bed and widening the spread of his thighs. “I’m _yours_.” It’s not a lie, either. It’s not. Sirius is Remus’ in these moments. He’s Remus’ when they are making breakfast together on a slow Friday morning. Sirius is Remus’ when he’s with James, too, like he’s James’ when he’s with Remus. Sirius has enough for them both, he needs them both.

Remus runs a hand through Sirius’ hair, abjectly affectionate, and lets it trail down his spine and over his arse again. Then he shifts and his breath is hot and his tongue is even hotter and Sirius floats and moans and _begs_ Remus for something other than the point of his tongue or a teasing press of his finger.

“Please, _Daddy_, please.”

Remus complies after Sirius stays as still as he can, easing first his fingers—with ample charmed lube—and then his cock into Sirius’ arse with a constant susurration of, “Oh, you’re so good, Sirius, so good for me. You feel so good, you take it _so well_, love.”

Sirius tries to push back against him, moaning long and low at the sensation of finally, _finally _being full with Remus’ glorious fucking cock, but Remus holds him fast with hands on his hips and fucks into him and pushes him down into the mattress and Sirius gets the breath punched out of him with every thrust. He comes untouched from Remus nailing his prostate with the head of that glorious cock and the way his erection presses into their sheets and shudders with every movement and chokes out a moan of “Oh fuck—_Remus!_”

Remus comes with a growl in Sirius’ ear and fingers tight on his hips and the length of his thighs shudder against the back of Sirius’ and he can just _see_ the way Remus throws his head back and lets his jaw fall lax when he’s in the throes of pleasure, when Sirius has brought him there by being _so good_.

With a breath, Remus sinks into him and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses over his shoulder and eases out of him. “Merlin, you’re so good, Sirius. So beautiful.” He kisses and kisses and Sirius turns his head to meet them like oxygen, floating down slowly back towards reality with Remus’ come trickling down his thigh. Remus unties him and kisses his wrists and casts healing spells at the raw marks and cleansing charms at the sticky mess and gathers Sirius into his chest.

“You okay, love?”

“Mmmhm,” Sirius murmurs, kissing Remus’ shoulder. “I love you.”

Remus smiles and pulls the covers up over them, kissing Sirius’ forehead. “I love you too.”


	3. but i want to make yours come true

Sirius is with James.

Remus knows this. He’s known for years. Known since school perhaps, it’s sort of nebulous in his mind, like the concept of the two of them as separate beings isn’t worth lingering on. Neither of them are subtle in any way, both wear their hearts on their sleeves. Remus isn’t subtle either, maybe it comes from growing up in such close quarters with them both, but they think they are smart sneaking off to see each other like Remus and Lily don’t realise.

Remus doesn’t _care_ either. He knows that Sirius is too much for one person to handle, knows he is like trying to catch a waterfall in a cup, and he knows James has the energy to match him. He suspects Lily knows too, suspects she doesn’t care either—Lily Evans has never suffered fools gladly, nor done something she doesn’t want to do implicitly—and perhaps it’s because James is the same; too much to handle by herself. Maybe that’s why they go together so well, Sirius and James, because they are two firecrackers, celestial and full of life, and they burn each other out just enough that it doesn’t hurt to look at them or be around them any longer.

That’s why Remus doesn’t care. Remus still has Sirius—the bits of him he can grasp, hold together, cling to—and James has the other bits, the firecracker bits, and it doesn’t feel like there is _less_ Sirius for either of them. He’s enough. Sirius is enough, he’s always been enough, too much, since he stepped on that damn train in 1971. Asking Sirius to stop seeing James would feel like asking him to cut his arm off, and Remus finds he loves Sirius _just_ the way he is. He isn’t jealous—you can’t be jealous of someone’s arm, can you? But he feels sorry for them both, for thinking they have to keep this secret, for thinking that Remus—who loves Sirius possibly more than he loves anything in the world and by extension probably loves James only a fraction less—wouldn’t be accepting. Remus, who was accepted by them in an instance despite his lycanthropy, would shun them both for loving _too much?_

The Floo flares.

“Remus?” It’s Lily. Her eyes are closed as she sticks her head through the fire to make sure she doesn’t see anything she’d rather Obliviate herself over—experience is a harsh teacher.

Remus crooks a smile and sets his cup of tea down; it’s gone lukewarm anyway. “Yeah, here Lily. Just come through, if you like. Everything alright?”

Lily smiles, her red hair sheathed in green flame like a contradiction. “Yeah, fine. Just need to talk to you. Hold on, I’ll come through.”

“I’ll put the kettle on.” Remus stands and cracks his neck to one side then the other before crossing their small living area to fill the kettle and spell it to boil. The Floo whooshes its full-bodied noise and the air in the flat smells _green_ for a split second. “Milk or no?”

Lily is next to him in a moment, smiling her Lily smile. “Milk, please. You have any of those biscuits?”

“Mmhm, in the cupboard on the left,” Remus hums and pours the water into their mugs. If Sirius and James were here they’d have a pot of it brewed, steeped properly for the right amount of minutes. But Remus and Lily drink their tea whilst it steeps, the teabag still floating beneath the milky surface like some awful class metaphor Remus doesn’t want to unpick. Sirius and James aren’t here, anyway. They’re off together, fucking, getting off together, laughing into their kisses the same way they laugh into everything together. The thought of it makes Remus long for something odd. Like he wants them here, to look after them, like they do him after the moons, like their firecracker-brightness is something he needs to bottle and wrap in bubble wrap.

When they sit down with tea, Lily blows on the surface, takes a tidy sip and says, “James and Sirius are seeing each other.”

Remus nods slowly. “Have been since school, I think.”

“Are you okay with it?” Lily pokes at the teabag floating in her cup instead of looking at him.

“Would I be here if I wasn’t?” The suggestion rankles Remus somehow; that he wouldn’t be okay with it; that Sirius—one of the most important things in his life—would be so easy to not be okay with. “Are you okay with it?”

“Would _I_ be here if I wasn’t?” Lily shoots back, her eyes blazing indignation.

Remus inclines his head and sips his tea. “True.”

Lily nibbles at the edges of a Garibaldi biscuit and watches the sky through the window for a moment. “I’m okay with it. Merlin, James is the most obvious person in the world, of course I knew. I was wondering if you did too. But I’m glad you do, I suppose. I wasn’t looking forward to breaking it to you.”

Remus laughs. “Lily. I can smell Sirius in a crowd 25 days out of 28, and I can tell when it’s not his smell. When he… when he smells of James. It’s a wonder they aren’t the same scent now, for how long it’s been, for them both. Before you and I even came on the scene, you know.”

“That’s why it’s okay…” Lily nods. “James is a fucking handful. He loves me, I know he does, he bloody overflows with it, and I’m sure he loves Sirius too, and that’s okay, I don’t care about that.” She breaks off to blow at the surface of her tea and take a sip. “I think I’m mad because he can’t tell me? They can’t tell _us,_ I mean. They’re both sneaking around like they’re James Bond—” Remus snorts a laugh around a mouthful of digestive biscuit— “and it’s so bloody obvious.”

“I know. Sirius’ excuses are getting worse and worse.”

Lily sips her tea again, chews on the corner of another biscuit, eating all the raisins first. “I tried to bring it up with him, give him an opportunity to tell me. But he just blustered out of it and went to do something else. Bloody brave Gryffindor, my arse.”

Brave Gryffindors the both of them, incredibly smart but just so _dumb_ and Remus smiles with just the corners of his mouth at the thought of the two of them, firecracker-brightness. “Yeah. Stupid, aren’t they?”

“Wonderful,” Lily agrees.

“I’m going to tell him I know, then. Tonight, when he gets back—” _smelling of James, tasting of them both, their shared scent like smoke and firewood for how explosive they are and there is a part of me that loves the taste of James in Sirius’ mouth_.

Lily watches him over the rim of her cup. Her green eyes are bright and inquisitive, like always, as if she could cut you in half with them. _Diffindo_ eyes, ruthless and warm somehow. “I’ll tell James then.”

“I’m not going to stop them. They can do what they want. They can do it here instead of sneaking off to the gents toilets at the Leaky or somewhere else stupid. I won’t stop them.”

“Okay. I won’t either. James’ happiness is important to me, Remus. My happiness first, because I’m not one of those women who self-sacrifices for _her man_, but then his. Promise me this won’t make any of us unhappy?”

Remus nods this time. He smiles over the rim of his cup. “Promise.”

They sit and make idle chatter until there are just dregs of tea and teabags in the bottom of their cups. Lily steals another Garibaldi biscuit as she stands up and brushes crumbs from her skirt. “Floo if there’s any problems, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Remus embraces her tightly and presses a kiss to the top of her hair. “Same to you.”

The Floo settles into acid-green ashes when Lily leaves and Remus flicks through his current editing job and waits patiently, calmness settling over him like a thick winter cloak. _I’m going to tell my boyfriend that he can carry on sleeping with his other boyfriend, and that his other boyfriend’s girlfriend is okay with it too. _Remus laughs into his notes and shakes his head as if to clear it.

Sirius comes in through the front door with a clatter of boots. He looks bright, _almost_ too bright to look at and Remus smiles. Not the Leaky then, if he didn’t Floo back. Sirius toes his boots off and crosses the room to lean over the back of the sofa and press a kiss to Remus’ forehead.

“Hello you,” Sirius says, hopping onto the back of the sofa to slide down into the seat next to Remus.

Remus rolls his eyes and slaps Sirius on the thigh for the way the cushions crumple around them. One day, Sirius_ Inherent-Grace _Black, he thinks, will trip and do himself some real damage when he should’ve just walked around the sofa and sat on it like a normal person. Remus smiles, though; he can’t help but smile. “Hello you.”

Sirius leans in to kiss him properly and Remus smiles—he _does_ taste of James.

“I know about you and James,” Remus whispers against Sirius’ lips.

Stillness. “What?”

Remus smiles and keeps his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, not holding but just there. “I know.” He swallows; licks his lips and Sirius is still so close his tongue touches the swell of Sirius’ bottom lip. “So does Lily.”

Sirius pitches back and Remus lets him. That’s the thing about Sirius, Remus has learned; you have to let him go, give him slack on his leash, distance from a firecracker lest you get burnt. “Rem... I—”

“It’s okay.” The air is still around them, the London traffic distant, only the sound of Sirius breathing short and sharp through his nose. He looks tense, Remus notices, his hands clenched tight on the tops of his knees. “I don’t care. Lily doesn’t either. I want you to be happy, Sirius. I wouldn’t ask you to give up James.”

“I…” Sirius is quiet for a long time. He stares into the middle distance to the left of Remus’ bicep and his chest rises and falls in short little huffs. Remus waits as patiently as he can, giving Sirius space. He nods, at long last, and his grey eyes flicker back into focus on Remus’ face. “You mean that?” Remus nods but stays silent. “You’re not mad at me? For going behind your back?”

“I’m not mad at you for seeing James. You two pre-date you and I, don’t you? But I’m… _upset_ you didn’t want to tell me, Pads. I wouldn’t have asked you to stop.”

“I didn’t know that.” The tension floods out of Sirius in one breath, and it’s like he’s been carrying that weight for _years_. Since they moved into their little flat and he snuck out and came back smelling of James and thought Remus wouldn’t notice, since the two of them always came back from Quidditch practice later than the rest and Sirius buried his face into Remus’ shoulder than little bit harder when they embraced later that night. Guilt does strange things to people but sometimes you don’t even notice it’s there until it’s gone and now Sirius is frighteningly bright, firecracker so wild he burns Remus’ eyes but he can’t look away.

“Now you do,” he says simply.


	4. i'm a missile guided to you

“Now you do,” Remus says, smiling his crooked little smile with his eyes so warm.

Sirius presses forward and kisses him because he can’t _not_. He pushes at Remus’ shoulders—he gives in the way he always does, assertive, in control—and climbs into Remus’ lap and licks into his mouth. Remus’ arms encircle Sirius’ waist and pull him close and he’s always so warm and secure. His fingers bite into Sirius’ ribs in just the right way as his free hand snakes up to grasp a broad swathe of Sirius’ hair and _pull_ just so.

Remus suits control. It fills him up like a ballast with sand; he’s sturdier, grounded, happier, when he’s the one taking the reins of their kiss and directing Sirius and maybe it’s something about the way Sirius himself sinks into that control. He wants it; has to fight for it a little, resists in a way until Remus growls and shoves him down and then Sirius sinks and gasps and he’s _flying_.

“You really don’t care?” Sirius asks on a gasp when Remus breaks the kiss to mouth along the cut of Sirius’ jaw.

“No,” Remus murmurs, his voice slipping into the telltale decadence that demands obedience, but there’s still a little of his Welsh accent behind his teeth. He smiles against Sirius’ cheekbone. “So please don’t go to any of those weird meeting spots anymore? No more back room at the Leaky or those awful toilets on Clapham Common… Just come here. I don’t _care_, I’d rather you both be happy, and _safe_.”

Something strange, hot and grateful, unfurls in the pit of Sirius’ stomach. He tips his head back for Remus to lavish attention on the pale column of his throat. “You mean that?”

He and James, here. In the spare bedroom, on the sofa perhaps, in the bathroom, kissing and laughing and fucking each other without worrying if they will get caught or if anyone knows. Maybe Remus will see, maybe he’ll walk in on them with Sirius’ cock down James’ throat or James’ hand wrapped around both their cocks, both of them flushed and naked and laughing. Would Remus stumble over his words and step out of the room? No, not this Remus, decadent Remus, all sharp edges and sly smiles; he would just smile and say _as you were. _Maybe linger in the doorway for a moment. Sirius’ stomach jolts at the idea.

Remus nips at the lobe of Sirius’ ear. “I do. You and James could be balls-deep in each other, Sirius, right in front of me and I wouldn’t mind.” His tongue lashes hot over the shell of Sirius’ ear and Sirius gasps in response, his hips snapping forward in search of friction. “Probably watch.”

Sirius laughs to hide the moan that shoots from his lips at the idea. “Oh you would, would you?”

“Mmhm.” Remus’ smile is glittering and dangerous as he looks up at Sirius, one hand dropping nonchalantly to circle over Sirius’ rapidly-hardening cock beneath his jeans. “I reckon you’d like it too.”

Sirius shudders. _You’re right_, he thinks, tipping his head back. He feels light for the first time in years, no longer terrified Remus will find out what he’s been hiding and kick him to the kerb, or else demand he choose one of them but Sirius couldn’t have ever chosen, he can never choose between the two halves of himself. His hips cant forward as Remus keeps his touch purposefully light, his breath ghosting over Sirius’ throat.

There’s a moment, Sirius thinks, where Remus picks up on what he wants. There’s a moment in their shared experience, when fooling around turns into Remus telling and Sirius obeying, and they both know it, somehow. It doesn’t happen all the time, but control suits Remus and pleasing suits Sirius and so it does happen often. When they first started out, it would be words—_do you want me to? Would you? And if I?_—but now, years later, out of Hogwarts nearly three years this summer, it just flicks a switch. Perhaps it’s the way Sirius goes lax, pliant and needy, against Remus’ body, or the way Remus’ spine straightens in anticipation for the sturdiness exerting control will give him.

It happens now, anyway; that switch flipped between them and Remus becomes iron draped in velvet and Sirius becomes hot silk. It feels warmer than ever, between them, with the weight from Sirius’ shoulder and perhaps the idea of seeing James and Sirius together in Remus’ mind.

“Shirt off, love,” Remus murmurs into Sirius’ throat, his fingers still torturously light on Sirius’ cock. Sirius obeys, grasping his shirt between his shoulder blades and pulling in one fell swoop. Remus’ next command comes just as Sirius’ shirt is over his head, arms raised. “Keep your arms up, love, hands behind your head.”

Sirius obeys.

Remus hums in satisfaction and bends to swipe his tongue over Sirius’ nipple. “Does Jamie tell you what to do?”

Sirius shakes his head and Remus responds with a scrape of his teeth over Sirius’ nipple and a gasp gets torn out of Sirius’ mouth. He knows Remus wants words. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Oh?” Remus fingers deftly undo Sirius’ jeans and Sirius kneels up to try and shove his crotch closer to Remus and get friction against Remus’ abdomen. “Shh, down, love.” Remus grasps Sirius’ hips and makes him kneel back down and Remus’ thigh seems like the perfect place to just grind against him to completion.

Sirius whines and bucks his hips to try and get _something_ because he’s so helplessly turned on because Remus is talking about James—_Sirius and James_—and he’s smiling and his fingers are still gently brushing over the head of Sirius’ cock where James’ hand was only an hour ago. “Rem, _please._”

Remus smiles and mouths at Sirius’ collarbone and leaves red little teeth marks in a breadcrumb trail down over his sternum. His fingers close around Sirius’ cock and tug gently. “Tell me then, love, what do you and Jamie do?”

A month later, everything and nothing has changed.

The first time Remus walks in on Sirius and James they are in the living room, sprawled together, Sirius’ shirt off, his hair mussed, James’ glasses askew, his jeans open. Remus had meant to be out, going to see Frank Longbottom about the book they are working on together, but he’s back early for _something_. Sirius freezes, on top of James, James’ hand down his pants, and looks between them with wild grey eyes, tendrils of hair falling into his gaze.

Remus smiles his crooked little smile and adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Padfoot, Prongs.” His amber eyes flicker across them both and Sirius isn’t sure who flushes more—Sirius, James or Remus. Strangely, Sirius doesn’t feel embarrassed, though, despite the blotches of redness stealing down his throat to his chest. Remus’ gaze between them feels like a flame to touch-paper and Sirius shifts and grinds against James’ hand still stuck in his pants.

“I’ll be in the bedroom,” Remus says, crossing the room. His voice is measured and Sirius thinks it might be a little teasing or taking the piss, but it’s nearly his sinuous, soft obedience voice. It stirs something in Sirius’ stomach and he bites his lip as Remus steps out of view.

Sirius looks back to James and James is looking up at him, panting hard, flushed red. James leans up and kisses Sirius and Sirius just distantly hears Remus say, “Have fun,” before the bedroom door shuts behind him.

It’s the fastest and hardest Sirius has ever come.

Dorcas and Marlene throw a party for Midsummer. It’s been long enough that Sirius and James no longer have to hide from Remus or Lily (they don’t exactly advertise it around the friend group, though) and everything seems _normal_—as normal as it can be to have two boyfriends and laugh into James’ kisses and moan into Remus’ mouth. Lily has walked in on them once before, kissing goodnight before parting ways; Sirius’ hands in James’ hair and their bodies plastered together in loose-limbered loveliness. She’d ducked back out of the room fairly quickly but James had mirror-called Sirius to tell him it was all okay once he had gotten home.

Remus has seen or heard a few things. It seems… less important to hide things from him. As if he might appreciate them more, perhaps. Maybe it’s the way Sirius craves the dark-chocolate of his voice that sets his insides aflame. Knowing Remus is next door whilst he’s sucking James’ cock makes it even hotter, especially when _Remus_ knows they know.

Everyone is at Dorcas and Marlene’s party. It’s a mini-reunion for them all out of Hogwarts, gathered in their little back garden in Muswell Hill, in the sunshine. Sirius sits sprawled against Remus’ side on a bench, chatting idly to Dorcas and Alice Longbottom—she married Frank, finally, a few months earlier—whilst Marlene mans the barbecue with the Prewett brothers. James and Lily are in the seat opposite them, Lily’s hand folded through James’ arm. She keeps leaning over to touch Sirius’ knee when they are talking and the motion, though insignificant to everyone else, warms Sirius’ heart.

Remus kisses Sirius’ temple as he passes him another Butterbeer. They’re both sober today, after a discussion this morning of what their Saturday night might entail. Pepper-Up works well enough but it leaves a bitter aftertaste and sometimes it’s easier just not to drink. Sirius would choose an hour of being tied up and denied an orgasm over a couple of Firewhiskies any day.

It’s all calm for a while, catching up on job offers and University programmes and who is engaged and who is married and who is expecting sprogs. Soon enough though, the Prewett's are causing havoc and Fenwick and Peter and Marlene are getting involved, throwing magical water balloons back and forth. Someone, probably Caradoc Dearborn, produces a sort of water gun charm and sprays violently purple water down the back of Fabian Prewett’s shirt. It doesn’t take long for people to catch on and then Sirius is up and firing a jet of neon green water right in James’ face before taking off down the garden.


	5. honey please, please come through

Remus stays resolutely out of what will later be known as the Great Water Gun Fight of 1981. There’s something about wet t-shirts and then the toplessness that comes along later and the scars that Remus has come to terms with but doesn’t yet want on show to the rest of the world that makes him avoid it.

There’s nothing wrong though, Remus decides, sipping his Butterbeer, in watching _Sirius_’ t-shirt, plastered with a Muggle punk band’s logo, become more and more transparent and stick to his shoulders and the curve of his lithe body. There’s nothing wrong with watching _James_, either perhaps, his Quidditch honed body—being a reserve for the Magpies has been James’ first step on the ladder of Quidditch fame and none of them could be more proud of him—beneath a mustard shirt that should look repulsive but James pulls it off.

James sprays Sirius with hot pink water that drips over his face and down his front and Sirius is laughing and roaring and chasing after James and they both trip out of view for a moment. Remus smiles and the bench shifts next to him.

“Wonderful idiots, eh?” Lily sips at a glass of Veela champagne Marlene must’ve unearthed from their housewarming.

Remus smiles. “Our wonderful idiots.”

“Mhmm…” Lily sips more champagne and eats a piece of pineapple off a cocktail stick. “And you’re okay?”

“Never been better, Lils.” Remus peers over the top of his Butterbeer, the world fading away for a moment. He wonders if Lily’s coming to him to try and broach the subject if she’s unhappy with current arrangements. Sirius listens to him, and by extension James probably would do too. “Are you? Honestly.”

Lily’s face blooms into a grin and her cheeks turn rosy. She almost looks shy for a moment. “It’s… so much better. James is just… he’s happier. The weight off his shoulders, the freedom of it. Frankly, I think I’d let him shag whoever he likes if he stays like this.” She gestures broadly with her champagne glass, to the rest of the party as if James has invited them all to some imaginary orgy and she’s only too happy to let him. “And when it _is_ the two of us—” Lily’s smile grows impish— “well, it’s a win-win situation, Remus.”

Remus laughs and shoves at her arm and drains the rest of his Butterbeer in one gulp. “Oh. Well there you go.” He grins and sets his empty bottle down. “I’m glad you’re happy Lily. We all are, I think.”

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we? We deserve it.”

Remus kisses her cheek before he stands and neatly steps aside. Frank is in his seat instantly, sparking up a conversation with Lily about the new potion he’s heard she’s working on. Remus smiles, genuinely happy, right down to his bones, and moves through the crowds in search of Sirius. There’s still a few final water battles going on, but they aren’t involved, so Remus heads towards the house. Dorcas had shrieked earlier to keep the water gun charms away from the house, else their landlord would have a _fit_, but Remus thinks he should check anyway.

The patio door opens directly into the kitchen and Remus has to look down to jiggle it over a crack in the sliding but when he looks up his jaw drops.

The kitchen is _covered_ in brightly coloured water. It’s spattered onto the ceiling, all over the counters, in great puddles across the lino. James is taking refuge behind the butcher’s block and firing bright red gushes of water at Sirius, who is leaping out of the way, between the fridge and the counter, firing lustrous gold water back at James. They’re both sopping wet and laughing.

“Padfoot! Prongs!” Remus chastises, sliding the door shut behind him with a little more force than he intended.

They’re still laughing, Sirius holding onto the kitchen counter now and James bent double over the butcher’s block dripping golden with charmed water. They’re soaking wet too, James’ mustard shirt is entirely see-through and Sirius shirt is so sodden it’s gaping at the neck and exposing his collarbones. “Dorcas said keep out of the bloody house, you two!” Remus is trying his hardest not to smile in the face of such firecracker-bright laughter. They’re still laughing, crossing over towards Remus and he thinks Sirius might aim that water gun charm at _him_ and then all hell will break loose but Remus stands his ground, exasperated. “I’m serious, she’ll go mad at you.”

Sirius waves a hand at him—multicoloured droplets fly from his fingertips—and crosses his arms over his chest. His tongue is in his cheek, hiding the corner of a smirk when Remus fixes him with a glare. “Okay okay, sorry, _Daddy_.”

The name strikes through Remus like _lightning_. It makes him stand taller, to his full height, shoulders drawn back, a slight tilt to his head—he can see it, vaguely, in the reflection of the patio doors at his periphery. It has a similar effect on Sirius and James, too perhaps. The air thickens impossibly between them like everyone has taken a shared in-breath and there is no oxygen in the room but it feels _so_ flammable. Sirius straightens too, he’s still smirking but he’s standing properly now, hands clasped behind his back just how Remus likes and looking at him with endless, bottomless eyes. James is looking between them, bright red. His eyes are as wide as dinner plates, jaw lax, and he’s shuddering, Remus can see his fingers shaking. Then the scent of arousal hits Remus like a tidal wave. It’s a week and a half ’til the moon but Remus can smell it off both of them like there’s been a switch flicked.

Remus looks at both of them—Sirius playing at demure, obedient in the way that Sirius does best, James wide-eyed and so seemingly innocent, panting softly. _Oh_, he feels so _powerful_. Remus imagines he could click his fingers and they would both sink to their knees and crawl over to him and do just what he asks of them.

Remus smiles, sharp and sinful, and both Sirius and James’ eyes track the movement. “Okay then.” He lifts a hand and beckons them both closer. Sirius closes the gap immediately, his eyes fixed on Remus’ lips,face tilted down but looking up through his full eyelashes. James follows Sirius, his eyes still wide but his pupils are blown and now he steps closer Remus can see tension through his abdomen like he’s holding his breath.

“I’m going to go and say goodbye to everyone and clean up your fucking mess. Then—” Remus looks to Sirius, his cheeks pink, he’s looking like he’s flying high already, strung up on Remus’ affection, and James, who is watching Remus, his eyes glued to Remus’ mouth. “I’m going to tell Lily that when I get home, I expect you both waiting in bed.”

Sirius makes a noise at the back of his throat like a whimper and James audibly swallows and his eyes don’t leave Remus’ mouth and Remus thinks he’s going to lean in to kiss him for a second but then Remus smiles and quirks an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Yessir,” Sirius whispers just as James mumbles, “Fuc—_yes_.”

Remus turns on his heel and pulls open the patio door. The noise of the party floods back into the dead space of their silence just as James and Sirius Apparate out of the kitchen behind him. Remus fights to keep an absurdly lurid grin off his face, his brain already whirling with all sorts of things they could do to each other. He wonders if they’re both as desperately turned on as he thought they were, if they’re grappling with each other now, all grabbing hands in a hurry to strip or perhaps shower before Remus gets home. Sirius knows what happens if he disobeys, but James won’t.

Remus finds Marlene first—she’ll be easier to break the news of the kitchen to than Dorcas. “Sirius and James continued the water fight in your kitchen,” Remus says, easing into the conversation. “I’ll go and clean it up but your kitchen might be a bit… red and gold for a while.”

Marlene claps him on the shoulder—she’s had a bottle of Veela champagne to herself— and says, “Good job we’re all Gryffindors then, huh?”

Remus kisses her cheek goodbye, and then Dorcas, and everyone else before he sees Lily with Mary. He stops a few feet away and catches her eye, beckons her over out of the conversation. He’s pretty sure he knows how this will go. He wants her to know, he doesn’t want to deceive her, and if she says no he’ll go home and call the whole thing off.

Lily greets him with a smile when she approaches and Remus touches her arm and attempts a tentative smile.

“I’m going off home. With Sirius, and James.”

Behind them the party continues, Mary is chatting to Dorcas now, and Frank and Alice are next to the barbecue looking like the perfect white picket fence couple but Remus doesn’t see or hear any of that. Lily’s green eyes are cutting but they soften a little around the corners. Lily watches him for a heartbeat, two, terrifyingly thunderous at the base of his throat.

“Is that okay?” Remus asks. He glances around and steps closer to lower his voice because he needs Lily to understand and consent. “We’re going to sleep together, the three of us.”

Lily nods, smiles and laughs, as if she’s surprised it’s taken this long to happen. Remus is reminded that Lily Evans doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to implicitly do. _My own happiness comes above his, only just, but it’s above_. “Okay.” She steps up to him, pops onto her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek. “You’ll look after them both.”

Relief and gratefulness floods through Remus in equal measures as he hugs Lily back and presses a kiss to her own cheek in response. “I will. Thank you.”

Lily pats him on the arm, satisfied, then turns back to engage Mary in avid conversation about the real problem with the use of Lacefly wings. Remus strides the length of the garden and goes back into the kitchen.

The phantom power of thinking about Sirius and James waiting for him in their big bed with the constellation-patterned sheets—long lengths of Sirius’ alabaster skin and expanses of James’ burnished bronze limbs together—makes casting the cleaning charms on the kitchen exceedingly easy. Remus barely has to think and his wand is pulling in his hand to clean up the evidence of their water fight, as if it too is aware the quicker they clean up the sooner they can be at home with the two of them and shared kisses and tastes of each other’s mouths.

Remus’ fingers are shaking slightly from anticipation as he steps out of the kitchen again and into the little side stoop where the wards are the lowest. He grips his wand and Apparates back to their flat, heart in his throat and cock already more than half-hard in his trousers.


	6. one look from you and i'm

“Are you _sure _you want this?” Sirius mutters into James’ mouth. They’ve been kissing frantically since they landed in a messy heap of Apparation in Sirius and Remus’ living room. _I expect you both waiting in bed_. James’ stomach lurches and his cock twitches.

“Yes, yes yes. It’s fine.” They’re in the shower, washing off the magically coloured water and James keeps wanting to touch Sirius but Sirius bats him away like he’s in a hurry.

Sirius shuts off the shower—he’s panting like he can’t catch his breath, like they’ve been fucking already but they haven’t and his eyes are swimming deep grey. He scrubs at his hair with a towel and then turns to haul James out of the shower stall too.

“Red, yellow, green,” Sirius says, seizing James by the face and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Call red, and he’ll stop, okay? We all will.”

James is utterly bewildered but he knows the way Remus spoke to him earlier had unfurled something heated and longing in the pit of his stomach that only the three of them can take care of together. James shivers again at the fresh memory of the way Remus had straightened up when Sirius called him _Daddy_. Do they do that together, the two of them? Sirius calls Remus _Daddy_ and Remus likes it and—Merlin, what the fuck else? Remus had turned into something else entirely when Sirius called him that, like he stopped stooping and hiding away and stepped into this endless well of power that drew James and Sirius to him like moths to a flame.

“Jamie!” Sirius grabs his arm like they’re running late or they’re going to get caught out after curfew except Sirius has never cared about either of those things. “Are you listening? Red, yellow, green. Green, go on. Yellow, slow down. Red, stop immediately. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” James says, still thinking of Remus’ sharp little grin and the way he beckoned them closer and James just did ask he asked without even thinking and he _liked it_. Sirius pulls him into the bedroom and clambers onto the bed. He’s still full of his inherent grace but he seems excited, nervous almost and James is nervous too but his cock is twitching in a desperate bid for attention. James crawls into the bed next to Sirius and runs a hand through Sirius’ damp hair. “Hey, are you okay?”

Sirius tilts into his touch and seems to sink into the sheets. “Yeah, yes. I just—excited, I think? Nervous.” Sirius laughs—nervously. “I didn’t expect this when I called him Daddy in front of you.”

James is breathless as he presses a kiss to Sirius’ shoulder. “You do that… a lot?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Sirius is squirming and leaves a trail of kisses up James’ throat to his jaw.

“He tell you what to do?” James thinks of Remus again, standing straight and tall with that crooked smile and Sirius sitting—no, _kneeling_—at his feet with grey eyes and pale limbs and James moans as Sirius kisses him on the mouth.

“Yeah, yeah he does.”

James wraps his arms around Sirius and pulls him close, their mouths meeting in a kiss, still frantic but just as loving and tender, deep and open. Sirius presses up against him and his hands catalogue James’ body like they have done for years, sweeping over shoulders and arms, pectorals and abdominals. James’ hard cock is pressing into Sirius’ stomach and usually Sirius would reach down and swipe his thumb expertly over that sensitive bit and grin, but he doesn’t. “We have to wait for him,” Sirius whispers into James’ mouth. He sounds awestruck and floaty, his hands gripping onto James’ biceps. “_Fuck_, I love you.”

James shivers and nips at Sirius’ bottom lip. “I love you. We’ll wait, we’ll wait.” They kiss and kiss and James is breathless and keeps thinking about Remus standing over the bed and watching them.

Something shifts in James’ periphery and he pulls back from Sirius’ mouth—flushed, kiss-bitten, panting—and Remus _is_ stood in the doorway, watching with a smile. James’ stomach lurches.

Sirius pushes away immediately and sits back on his heels, hands clasped behind his back, spine straight, head tilted down, looking up through his eyelashes. He looks like something out of those Muggle magazines Benjy had passed around the common room in Seventh Year, looks obedient and pliant and _beautiful_. James doesn’t know if he’s meant to do that so he just pulls the covers over his crotch and watches Remus, wide-eyed.

“No, Sirius, down, love. It’s fine—” Remus waves a hand and crosses to the bed, sitting on the edge. “We need to talk first, properly.”

Sirius shifts his weight and sinks back into the Sirius James recognises, breathing a sigh of what might be relief. He’s still wound tight though, sitting up and watching Remus and James alternately, grey eyes wide, his cheeks pink.

Remus undoes the button of his collar and the two at his cuffs. He’s looking right at James whilst he does. “Sirius and I have done this before. A lot. But you haven’t, James. And I want you to know what you’re getting into.” James nods as Remus begins to fold the cuff of one sleeve up towards the elbow. “And I want you to be consenting and _enjoy_ this. If you trust me and let me take control I can make it good for you, but you _have_ to trust me. And I have to trust that you will speak up when you aren’t enjoying something or want to stop or need something, James. I don’t ask you for mindless obedience, I’m asking for you to do something because I think we will all enjoy it when I ask and you do it, and it’s _asking_, not telling. If you _don’t_ want to do anything, that’s fine. There’s no guilt or shaming or expectations here. There’s just respect, trust and love. Understand?”

James nods. This is different that what he expected but he’s so wildly turned on at the idea of this power exchange, he and Sirius doing as Remus asks, guiding them down the path of pleasure. Sirius nudges him and James realises Remus is waiting for a concrete answer. “Yes, I understand.”

“Okay, good.” Remus begins folding up the cuff of his other sleeve. His forearms are littered with scars from Moony but they look powerful and corded and James imagines Remus holding him down for a moment. “I need you to speak up whenever you are even slightly uncomfortable with anything. Words are the best, but if you can’t manage that, then a colour. Red, yellow, green.”

“I already said that,” Sirius pipes up. James looks over to see him staring at Remus with ill-disguised adoration, leaning forward, hands on his knees. His damp hair is tumbling down around his shoulders.

Remus’ gaze shifts to Sirius too and he smiles softer, reaches out to pet through Sirius’ hair and brush his thumb over Sirius’ lower lip. “Good, Sirius. Thank you love, that was good of you. I just want to make sure, okay?” Sirius shifts, sitting straighter, and James sees his cock twitch, pre-come beading at the tip. _Oh_, James thinks, shivering, seeing just how this power dynamic works, just how the two of them fit together and now he is here too, fitting together with them and his whole body tightens in anticipation.

Remus smiles at James again and his stomach flips over. Remus is different here, so wildly different and it’s intoxicating. Remus explains the colours again, similar to Sirius, and then quirks an eyebrow. “Anything you’re scared of, James?” James shakes his head. “Anything you know you don’t like?” James shakes his head, nothing he’s come across yet. “Still got that hamstring injury from last Quidditch season?” James shakes his head, a little surprised Remus had remembered, but Remus is endless wells of unknowable things shrouded in mystery. “Are you clean?” James nods, he’s only ever been with Sirius and Lily and Lily insisted they got tested when they got together. “Good. What do you want to do?” James doesn’t answer, he’s not sure how to. Remus’ shirt sleeves are rolled to the elbow now and he looks dangerous and powerful. “Well. Can I kiss you?” _Yes_. “Touch you?” _Yes_. “All over?” _Yes._ “Lick? Suck? Fuck?” _Yes, yes, yes_. “I think you and Sirius have similar likes, what do you think? You like what you and he do?” James nods emphatically. “So I can do everything he’s told me you do together?” James nods again, his cock twitching. Sirius has talked to Remus about what they both do. How has he described it? In lurid detail? Are they getting off together at the same time? “What about Sirius?” Remus continues. “Can he do that too?”

James glances over and Sirius is magnetic now, sitting straight up and staring between James and Remus like they’re the best things he’s ever seen. His cock is jutting up against his stomach, a pinkish flush creeping across his throat and chest, and James reaches across to take his hand. “Yeah, whatever you want. Both of you.” Remus quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll say, if I don’t want to, I solemnly swear it. Marauder’s Honour, I swear.”

“Good. Any questions?” Remus’ voice is dropping lower, closer to how it was back in Marlene and Dorcas’ kitchen. James shivers and Sirius squeezes his hand. They’re both breathing heavily in anticipation, excitement, desire.

James thinks now would be the moment to back out if he wanted. But he doesn’t want to. He wants to let Remus take him apart, to give up control and do just as Remus asks. His voice is barely a whisper when he asks, “What do I call you?”

Remus smiles, sharp and hot. James’ eyes flicker across his face and to the triangle of skin exposed by his open collar. He looks like a coiled spring, ready to pounce on them both and devour them whole. “Remus, _Daddy_, whatever you like, Jamie. _‘Please’_ is fine too.”

James makes a noise he can only identify as a whimper. He nods. “Okay… yes, _please_, Daddy.”

Remus smiles and leans in and tilts his head just so and he’s kissing James. It’s entirely different to Sirius, who is all fire and tongue and teeth. Remus is slow and careful, commanding, dominating. He is in control and James _knows _it. Sirius moans from beside them, a low, almost desperate sound and Remus’ weight shifts and James cracks one eye open to see Remus’ hand in Sirius’ hair, his thumb brushing over the swell of Sirius’ bottom lip.

When Remus pulls back he’s smiling, glittering and dangerous. He stands and straightens and looks down at them both. “Good. On your knees then.”


	7. out of my body

Merlin, they’re fucking beautiful like this.

Sirius is the picture of perfection, his back straight, knees just slightly apart, hands clasping elbows behind his back, chin tilted down just a fraction, eyes open, present and ready. He’s pale in the evening sunlight, his black hair tumbling down around his shoulders. His cock is pink and twitching in his lap in anticipation and he has a sort of dazed look to him already, as if simply sitting like this lets him drop into the warmth of Remus’ care. He glances sidelong at James, who is staring up at Remus, still awestruck.

“Show him, Sirius,” Remus murmurs, watching them both carefully.

Sirius nods and bites at his bottom lip, turning to James. “Knees apart, back straight, shoulders back,” he whispers, low and close to James’ ear as his hands guide James’ body to sit how Remus likes. James is all burnished umber in the light, hazel eyes wide behind his glasses and he looks bloody glorious. His stomach is clenched tight, wonderfully muscled from hours and hours of Quidditch practice. His shoulders set back perfectly and the downward tilt of his chin is just enough to construe submission when really, it wouldn’t surprise Remus if both of them together, firecracker-bright, would act up just to be brats. He wonders if that’s what they had done earlier, in Marlene and Dorcas’ kitchen.

“Good, Sirius,” Remus says as Sirius sits back on his ankles and settles in again. “Thank you.”

Sirius preens and shifts a little, it’s so obvious what praise does to him, how wound up Sirius can get from words alone. Neither of them are going to get any release for a while though, he thinks. Good boys don’t cover their friends kitchen in magically coloured water that almost definitely stains when they’ve been told explicitly not to. Remus looks at James—Godric, he’s beautiful—and lets his voice drop for a moment, kind and soft. “Deep breath, Jamie. _Relax_. Let me take care of you.”

James does so—Remus knew obedience would suit him—and he looks so much better for it. “Good.” Remus undoes his shirt, slowly. Button by button and to see both Sirius and James track every minutiae of movement does wonderful and terrible things to Remus’ insides. “See, you’re being good now,” he begins, smirking, “but you weren’t well behaved at Marly and Dorcas’, were you? Dorcas _said_ don’t go in the kitchen and yet you did? And you laughed about it. I don’t think that’s good behaviour, do you?”

“No, Sir,” Sirius replies immediately, shifting restlessly over his ankles, hands still clasped behind his back.

James’ mouth opens and closes before he finds his words. “No, Sir.”

“So—” Remus slips the last button undone and shrugs his shirt off. It’s Midsummer and it’s warm and he wants the warmth of their bodies together despite the feeling of power that being clothed when they are naked gives him— “I think a punishment is in order.” Remus looks at James, whose throat bobs with a swallow. “Anyone ever spanked you Jamie?”

“No. Not… not properly.”

Remus wonders if Lily has for a moment, the odd smack on the arse whilst they’re going at it. But that’s not what they’re here for. James is bright red but he’s practically wriggling with anticipation. The room smells of arousal and desire and Remus thrives on it. Sirius has perked up, his hands pressing into the tops of his knees. Remus knows how Sirius feels about impact play, knows how suited his porcelain skin is to the flush that comes with striking it, how much Sirius adores the soft sting of it—when done right, they’ve had some scenes exploring just how well Sirius bruises—and knows Sirius will be begging for release by the end of it.

“Ever spanked anyone Jamie?” Remus draws closer to the bed, putting one knee on it. Both of them look up at him, awestruck and stuck fast to the spot.

Sirius whimpers. Remus glances to him and reaches out to thread fingers through his barely-damp hair, tugging softly. “Shh, love. Patience.” Sirius’ eyes swim with the North Sea and mercury and he smiles.

“N-no. I haven’t,” James says, turning his head to watch Remus and Sirius.

“Good.” Remus releases Sirius’ hair, before turning to look at him and tapping him on the thigh. “Further up the bed, love. Hands and knees.”

Sirius scrambles to obey. He’s electric like this, desperate to be tamed, willing to do whatever Remus wants. He sinks into the position, on his hands and knees, legs hip-width apart, facing the pillows, and looks back at Remus over his shoulder.

“Good, love.” Remus smiles and looks back to James, putting a gentle hand on his upper arm to pull him into place, kneeling up behind Sirius. Remus kneels behind him and tucks his chin onto James’ shoulder. “Now, Jamie, I’m going to show you what to do, and you do it to Sirius, yes?”

James’ fingers trace the dimples of Sirius’ lower back, carefully, as if he doesn’t want to break him. “Yeah.” Sirius moans and shudders at the touch, pressing his hips back.

Remus smiles and presses a line of little kisses along James’ shoulder. “Colour, loves?”

“Green.” Sirius is emphatic as James, awestruck, mumbles, “Green.”

“Good.” Remus nips at the tendon across James’ shoulder and runs light fingertips over the crease between his arse and thigh and watches as James does the same to Sirius. “You have to start off slow,” Remus murmurs into James’ neck, sliding his palm up over the swell of James’ arse to dig his fingertips in slightly. “Warm the skin up first, hm? Spread them around, always below here—” Remus traces a line with his nail over the top of James’ arse cheek— “of course.”

James is shuddering with every in and out breath and Sirius is too, his back rising and falling in the long, deep breaths of forced regulation, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

“Like this,” Remus whispers and brings the flat of his palm down over the meat of James’ arse cheek. The sound snaps through the room and James jerks and inhales sharply, body shot through with tension. In front of him, Sirius looks over his shoulder, waiting impatiently as Sirius does. “Go on.”

James copies perfectly—he was always good at practical lessons, demonstrations of Quidditch moves when Remus observed practices—and smacks Sirius on the arse, just right. Sirius moans and sinks his weight into his hands, tipping his hips back. James exhales sharply and his free hand clenches into a fist. Remus notices because he’s hyper-aware at times like this, tuned in to them both, knowing Sirius so well and learning James rapidly. Remus’ only concern right now is the two of them.

“Okay?” Remus whispers into James’ ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it.

“Yeah. Yes, yes.” James is staring at Sirius’ arse before him with glassy eyes, his lips half-parted as if he’s waiting for a kiss. _This first_, Remus thinks.

“Good. Ten, then. Stay nice and still,” Remus says, speaking to them both now. “Sirius can count for us. That one didn’t count.” Breathy silence. “Yes? Use your words.”

“Yes.” James’ voice sounds firmer now as Sirius yelps, “Please.”

Remus brings his palm down harder for the first real one, moving back a little to get the perfect angle. James yelps, tension snapping up his spine, and exhales shortly before doing the same to Sirius.

Sirius hisses out a long breath and lets his head drop forward. “One.”

Again. A little harder, varied in location just a little.

“Two.”

Sirius’ voice has gone raspy and Remus can hear him swallowing before every count. Sirius shifts his weight down onto his forearms for how much his arms are shaking. Remus keeps one hand on James’ waist to steady him until he knows how James will take them. He knows Sirius is reduced to a quivering wreck after four slaps, at most.

“Three.”

Remus switches sides and lands _Four_ and _Five_ on James’ other cheek. James switches too, his other hand just moored on Sirius’ calf to support himself. The slaps ring through the still early-evening air sharper than anything else and Remus lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment at all the sensation in the room. It’s stunning, to have these two firecrackers laid out before him, doing as he asks and shuddering with every iteration of it.

Sirius is moaning and James’ breaths are getting shallower and their skin is gloriously reddened, Sirius’ like dusky peonies, James’ like deep carnelian.

_Six_ makes James moan properly for the first time, deep and dark and desire-filled. His chin drops onto his chest and he smacks Sirius, just on the meat where his thigh meets the curve of his arse.

“_Ah,_ s-six.” Sirius keens and pushes back into James but James keeps his hand there as if it’s holding him up.

“Jamie?” Remus says quietly, tightening his hold on James’ waist. “Colour?”

“Green, fucking _green_—” James huffs a little nervous laugh— “I’ve never been so fucking turned on in my life, I’m just trying—trying not to come all over Sirius’ perfect fucking arse.”

“Merlin—_fuck_, Jamie, come on me,” Sirius pleads, pushing his hips back.

Remus reaches around and pinches Sirius _hard_ on the thigh, just on the outskirts of the reddened flood across his entire backside. “Be quiet, Sirius. You have to behave _and_ say please for that. Patience.”

Sirius whines and hisses a string of curse words into the mattress. Remus chuckles and kisses James’ neck. “Think you can manage four more, Jamie? You don’t want to come yet, I promise. I have so much planned for you, love.”

“Yeah, okay.” James lets out a long breath and straightens back up, his stomach muscles trembling.

“Four more. If you don’t think you can hold off, tell me. Use your colours if you need.”

“Yessir,” James says.

“Ready, Sirius?” Remus asks, smirking, because he knows Sirius will be going out of his mind with want right now.

“_Fuck_, please, Godric just—c’mon—”

Remus cuts him off with a sharp slap on the top of James’ thigh and James passes it forward, moaning sharply. Sirius twitches and sinks back into the touch, letting out a long whine.

“S-seven—fuck.” He’s holding his breath and his thighs are shaking, Remus notices.

“_Breathe_, Sirius. You better not be thinking about coming.”

Sirius shakes his head, his inky hair spilling from side to side, his fingers clenching and unclenching in the sheets. James lets out a little breath watching him and shifts a little from side to side. Remus watches him for a moment, reading the way he’s holding himself, the tempo of his breathing. James leans into Remus’ hand on his waist. They are both trusting him _so_ much. He brings his hand down again.

“Eight.”

Sirius whimpers with every out breath now. James’ breath is forced, in through his nose, out through his mouth, his eyes clenched shut. Remus knows it’s likely edging from pleasure into pain for James now with the way he is holding himself but it’s not _meant_ to be fun. Sirius, however, is probably trying not to come. He’s always liked his pleasure with a healthy dose of pain and Remus imagines James being the one to dish it out is incredibly arousing for him.

“Nine!”

Remus holds tight onto James’ waist for _Ten_ and watches him carefully as the last slap shudders through Sirius’ right arse cheek and leaves it to bloom bright red. Sirius jerks and his back arches into it. “Ten—_fuuuck_, oh fuck.”

James sinks back into Remus, shuddering. He’s never seen James look so placid before, so spaced-out and strung-out and high, and kisses his neck as he shifts him around and lets him lie—gingerly—back on the pillows at the head of the bed. “Good boy, Jamie, love. You did so good, so so good, thank you.” Remus presses kisses to James’ forehead, cheeks, and to his panting mouth. “So good. You took them so well.” James leans up into every one of the kisses, wanting more but not quite knowing what to do with himself. “Just stay there for a moment, okay? I’ll be right here, just going to Sirius, okay?”

“Mmm, okay.” James is floating, his eyes drifting shut.

Remus keeps a hand on James thigh as he leans over to Sirius—he’s stayed face down, arse up (fuck, it is gloriously red) where James and Remus left him, trying to catch his breath and not come before Remus lets him—and touches between his shoulders. Sirius jumps and sinks into him after a moment.

“Sit up love,” Remus murmurs, helping Sirius to sit up with a hand under his arm.

“Rem—” Sirius clings to his arm and lets Remus deposit him next to James where he immediately leans in and starts kissing a line down James’ chest.

Remus sits back on his ankles and watches them both with unbearable fondness bubbling under the surface of the stern face he employs in times like these. _I love them both_, he thinks, surprised at just how _un_surprised he is by that revelation. “Which one of you went in the kitchen first, hm? At Marly and Dorcas’?”


	8. and flying above

Sirius is _flying_.

His arse fucking _hurts_ and his head feels lighter than it ever has and nothing is important but pleasing Remus and being with James. Oh and it’s James right here, James who spanked him and gave him that rush of endorphins and said _I’m trying not to come all over Sirius’ perfect fucking arse._ Sirius leans up to kiss James’ lush mouth, the swell of his bottom lip and the way his lips are parted just so to invite kisses.

Remus snaps his fingers and Sirius snaps upright like it’s a hard-wired response. “Excuse me. Not kissing, answering me. Who went in the kitchen first?”

Sirius glances at James but he can’t discern anything from his expression besides pleasure and desire. He can’t really remember, just remembers running in there, the two of them trading gouts of magical water. But Sirius wants the punishment.

“Me, Sir,” he says, slurring his words a little, smiling.

“Up then.” Remus crosses his arms, jerking his chin up. “Quickly.”

Sirius sits up and knee-walks over to Remus, who makes a quick _turn-around_ motion that Sirius obeys. He’s desperate, if he’s honest, and cants his hips backwards towards Remus and plants his knees wide.

Remus tuts. “Sirius. You look like a two-bit whore like that, sticking your arse out. Up straight, properly.” Remus pushes at Sirius’ lower back then at his shoulders and Sirius over-balances a little because his head is swimming but James catches him at the elbows. Sirius leans to kiss him again but Remus pulls him back by the hair, his long fingers winding through sheafs of inky black and pulling _just so_.

“Sirius, behave.”

Sirius whimpers but does as he’s asked once James catches him, kneeling up in one long, perfect line. The sound of Remus undoing his belt buckle—one handed, his other still in Sirius’ hair—is a sound Sirius associates with rapidly-incoming pleasure and he moans softly as he feels the backs of Remus’ fingers graze his arse as Remus undoes his trousers and pushes them down enough to expose his cock. It presses against the tender curve of Sirius’ arse and he shuts his eyes.

Remus Summons his wand and nudges Sirius’ knees together. “I’m going to fuck your thighs, Sirius,” Remus says, pressing kisses along Sirius’ neck. Sirius lets his head drop to the side and moans at the sudden slickness between the tops of his thighs. James is watching with his eyes as wide as dinner plates and his cock looks gorgeous. “And you’re not going to come until I tell you to. Neither of you.”

James shuffles closer and sets his hands on Sirius’ waist. He looks foggy too, floating from the residual pain.

When Sirius nor James answer Remus clears his throat. “Words, everyone. You aren’t gagged. Yet.”

“Yessir,” Sirius ushers out, pressing his body back into Remus’.

“Yes, Sir,” James agrees, moving closer. His fingertips stray down the lines of Sirius’ stomach and over the jut of his hipbone. It’s only exploratory, lightness personified, but Sirius is wound tight and he wants to come and he can’t.

Sirius feels Remus smile against his neck and feels Remus’ cock nudge against the crease of his arse. “Sirius, love,” he murmurs. “Do you want to suck Jamie’s cock whilst I fuck your thighs?”

Sirius nods as Remus slides into the slick-tight place at the join of his thighs. The texture of Remus’ jeans is sore against the redness over his arse cheeks but Sirius leans back into it anyway and moans. “Yes. Please.”

Remus chuckles. “Do you think Jamie can handle it without coming down your talented little throat, hm?”

Sirius tilts his head to look at James and laughs like he’s drunk, slow and melodious. “Can you, Jamie?”

James frowns but the corners of his mouth are lifting. “Yeah, I can handle it.”

Remus releases Sirius’ hair then and presses lightly between his shoulder blades. Sirius pushes his hips back into Remus’ slow, languid thrusts and leans down onto his hands. James has shuffled back enough for Sirius to be at eye-level with his cock when he does and Sirius licks his lips before letting his tongue curl over the tip of it. James moans above him and threads his hands into Sirius’ hair. Sirius breathes out through his nose and lets James fuck forward into his mouth because it’s what he loves.

“Fuck, Sirius—Merlin—”

Remus’ fingers are trailing up and down Sirius’ back, digging in slightly over the swell of his arse where it _stings._ Remus’ fucking wonderful cock is nestled between his thighs, over his pulse there, pressing against his perineum, dragging on every pull outwards to roll back in, firing at every nerve ending and _everything_ in Sirius is wired for pleasure right now, everything is gorgeous and so pleasurable it’s near painful but it feels _so_ good.

“You look _perfect_, the both of you,” Remus says, pausing at the peak of one thrust sharp enough to jerk James’ cock further down Sirius’ throat. “Fucking perfect. You’re both so good.” Sirius blinks up at James, moaning happily in response to the praise. James shudders and clenches his eyes shut. Sirius knows the picture he paints like this, and neither of them can come so he wants to enjoy it.

James goes very still for a moment as Sirius swallows around the head of his cock and Sirius can see the telltale tightness in his stomach. He pulls back slowly, curling his tongue. “You can’t come, Jamie,” he says, voice dancing with mirth, “don’t come.”

James pulls slightly on Sirius’ hair in retaliation but Remus is quicker, hauling Sirius up with an arm around his neck. Sirius yelps, his hands going to Remus’ arm as Remus brings their upper bodies back together and presses his mouth to Sirius’ throat.

“That wasn’t very nice, love,” Remus says through his teeth as he nips at the tender angle between Sirius’ neck and shoulder. He’s still thrusting his cock between Sirius’ thighs, languid and slow, and his voice still sounds lovely and even and Sirius needs to come but Remus won’t let him, won’t let either of them.

Sirius shakes his head because he can’t answer, Remus biting at his shoulder.

“I think you should get a taste of your own medicine, Sirius,” Remus says into his neck, an arm still across his chest to keep him pinned against Remus’ torso. Sirius whimpers and tries to shift his hips to get something, _anything_. “Jamie, love. You know, the thing that upset Sirius the most is lack of attention. He’ll go spare if you _nearly_ give him what he wants.”

Sirius squirms because Remus’ voice is low and undulating and cruel. “Remus—please—”

James is smiling ear to ear, his lips parted, his throat flushed.

“Shh, Sirius. This isn’t your choice, you made yours.” Remus is still thrusting between Sirius’ thighs and his nerve endings feel like fire for how well Remus sets him alight. “Colour?”

“Green! Please—please—” Sirius lets his head fall back onto Remus’ shoulder and screws his eyes shut as James kisses a path down the crease of Sirius’ hipbone. His breath ghosts over Sirius’ sorely neglected cock, red and dripping, as he shifts onto his elbows, arse-up, still reddened from Remus’ handprints and—Merlin, Sirius wants to come.

“Green, so bloody green,” James murmurs as he leaves open-mouthed kisses down to the base of Sirius’ cock, then skirts around, licking and sucking at the soft skin of his balls. Then there’s just hot breath again and James’ tongue curls over Sirius’ inner thigh and what must be the head of Remus’ cock because Remus’ moans sharply into Sirius’ neck and his hand from Sirius’ hip reaches forward and must tangle in James’ messy hair for the soft hum that Sirius feels vibrate against his thigh.

“I didn’t say you could do that, Jamie,” Remus says and he sounds breathless for the first time. Sirius thrills at the sound of it in his voice but he keeps thrusting and James’ warm breath floods over the apex of Sirius’ thighs, his tongue swirling at the peak of every thrust. Sirius shifts his knees apart just a fraction as James ducks lower still for better access, one hand gripping the base of Sirius’ cock to move it up _out of the way_ and Sirius wants to scream but all he can do is moan.

“Mmm, ’m sorry, Sir,” comes James’ reply, a little slurred and slow because his mouth is open, tongue out for the tip of Remus’ cock to press against and his nose is nudging slightly at Sirius’ balls and Sirius just wants sensation already. “Just want to make you happy.”

Remus huffs a laugh into Sirius’ neck and thrusts a little harder and James moans softly. Sirius wonders for a moment if they’ll get away with this or there will be some other kind of glorious, torturous punishment but Remus buries his face into Sirius’ neck and thrusts faster. One of Sirius’ hands falls from Remus’ arm to tangle into James’ hair and thread with Remus’ fingers there too. They feel wound together like this, bodies together, minds together, Sirius wants nothing but to please, and to come. But the former is the stronger sensation else he’d be coming in James’ beautiful fucking face right now but he’s gritting his teeth and holding on.

“Please—please—” Sirius murmurs, tilting his head to kiss Remus’ neck and leave little red blooms with his teeth.

Remus smiles and turns in to meet Sirius’ kiss on the mouth, his tongue coiling against Sirius’. Sirius feels Remus tense against his back a moment before he comes. His hips jerk and smack against Sirius’ backside for three, four more thrusts before he sinks into Sirius’ kiss. James hums and Sirius doesn’t feel Remus’ come slipping down his thighs so maybe James has it all and that’s vaguely disappointing.

“Don’t swallow,” Remus murmurs into Sirius’ mouth—it would sound so soft from anyone else but from Remus, even with the tone of his voice so lax from his orgasm, it sounds like an implicit order as he hauls James up by the hair.

Sirius’ eyes slip open—Godric, he’s so close—to see James; Remus’ come is all over his mouth and chin. Sirius presses forward and Remus lets him, lets Sirius kiss his come from James’ mouth and open his mouth for James’ tongue and the taste of Remus and James together.

Remus moves away from Sirius’ back but keeps a hand between his shoulder blades as he moves around to their side. “Merlin, you’re both so good, just fucking look at you.”

Sirius can feel Remus’ come dripping down his chin too, tipping up and letting James chase it with his tongue, kissing James through it and into it and with it and he presses closer so his cock is pressed against James’ hip.

“_Please_—” James whispers into Sirius’ mouth as Sirius moans and presses his hips forward to rub the tip of his cock over James’ hip.

Remus leans in to kiss the corner of Sirius’ mouth and sweep up a trickle of his own come with his tongue. Sirius turns and so does James and Sirius has never kissed two people at once but it feels glorious and far too good for him to weather. Sirius’ hands reach up to fist into James’ hair to stop touching himself and James’ fingers curl through the ends of Sirius’ hair for probably the same reason. But all three of them are kissing and they all taste of each other and it’s beautiful and their tongues meet in indolent curls outside their mouths and Sirius whimpers.

The mattress shifts as Remus does and he reaches down to take both Sirius and James’ cocks into his hand, pressing them together. James throbs next to Sirius and Sirius moans into their mouths and shoves his hips forward to get friction. Remus strokes them both, slow and indulgent, long sweeps of his talented fingers, slick with charmed lube, twisting just so, pressing hot and tight.

“_Please_—” Sirius whimpers and bites at Remus’ lower lip and it’s James’ tongue that frees it again.

“_Please_.” James’ voice tumbles over the single syllable and his hand wrenches hard in Sirius’ hair at the rapidly approaching tidal wave of his orgasm.

“Come for me loves,” Remus murmurs into their kiss, sweeping slick white up with his tongue into James’ mouth whilst Sirius sucks on James’ bottom lip.

Remus’ order is routed directly to his cock, Sirius has no choice in the matter. He’s been holding it back for so long now that when the flood gates open—when Remus says so—Sirius practically sobs into their kiss, Remus’ fingers around them both flooding with warmth. James is on his heels, his teeth sinking into Sirius’ bottom lip as he comes, groaning long and low. Remus strokes them both through it with easy, languid pulls that speak to his expertise; he keeps stroking until Sirius gasps his first proper inhale in half an hour and James shudders and they both pitch forwards into each other as their muscles finally give up and release is so sweet.

Catching them both around the waist, Remus manoeuvres them to the head of the bed where Sirius sinks into seemingly endless pillows.

“You were so good, both of you. So good, just what I asked.” Remus’ hand is in Sirius’ hair and he knows he’s grinning dopily and James grasps for his hand and squeezes but he doesn’t care because everything is _good_.

“So good. Perfect. Thank you, thank you.” Remus kisses Sirius on the forehead and the mattress shifts. Sirius hears him casting a few spells and feels distinctly less sticky as James curls against Sirius on one side and Remus lays down next to him on the other.

In a moment, Sirius knows Remus will sit up and make them both drink a glass of water and eat a few squares of chocolate. He’ll cast healing charms at the red marks across their backsides and smile like honey at them both, maybe run a bath and spell the tub extra-large and murmur _you were so good, loves, so good_ like a mantra. When Sirius and James are back on solid ground Remus will peer at them with his amber eyes and say _let’s talk_ and they will dissect everything so Remus can make sure next time—there will be a next time, Sirius will riot if there isn’t—is just as perfect as this time.

Now though, Sirius squeezes James’ hand and rests his head on Remus’ shoulder. Now he can just bask in everything, knowing he has enough love for them both, they all have enough love, an abundant, overflowing verdant garden of love, for each other.


	9. a substitute for your love

Lily gives her reflection a final glance in the mirror before she steps out of the bedroom. “Ready, Potter?”

James is stood in the living room as she steps through, shrugging on her denim jacket—it might’ve been his actually, at one point, but she’s commandeered it—and he’s grinning, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Yep, Potter—” the novelty of being _Mrs Potter_ hasn’t worn off in the six months since that beautiful day— “all set?”

Lily picks up a bottle of elf-made wine and tucks it under her elbow, turning to see James waiting excitedly by the fireplace. They look a picture together, Lily in a navy jumpsuit with burning red hair tumbling over her shoulders, James in loose tracksuit bottoms and a Magpies shirt with his hair as haywire as ever. Lily doesn’t mind, he’ll be getting naked when he gets to where he’s going anyway. “Come on then, you’re awful when you’re over-excited.”

James shrugs and laughs. “It’s been two weeks, I’m allowed to be excited.” He takes a pinch of Floo powder and throws it into the fire— “The Lupin-Black’s, 34 Hertford Road—” and steps through.

Lily shakes her head; her husband is ridiculous, especially when they’ve been caught up in moving house and it’s been two weeks since he’s seen his boyfriends. Lily can tell, too, he’s vibrating out of his skin, becoming even more distracted and manic on a daily basis. Thank Merlin the Magpies training schedule for the main team is even more rigorously lately or Lily would be going out of her mind trying to corral James Potter without the help of Sirius or Remus. Lily steps into the Floo and enunciates their address.

At Remus and Sirius’, Lily looks around to see Remus at the kitchen filling a glass of water. James is beside the fireplace toeing off his shoes and when Remus turns James’ back snaps straight and tall. Lily smiles to herself—Merlin he’s utterly adorable. She doesn’t mind that James’ eyes flicker to the floor when he’s in the same room as Remus, she doesn’t mind that Remus exacts obedience from her husband when they are together because she likes James just how he is for her.

The four of them have settled into a perfect balance. On the weekends Lily hangs out with her friends, drinks cocktails and discusses the latest Hogwarts gossip with Dorcas, who is helping out the Alchemy teacher with a new syllabus. Lily’s position as Professor of Potions meant she was back at Hogwarts, a place of love and safety where they all had their best years. On the weekdays Lily is at work and tries not to think about what decidedly debauched things her husband gets up to with his two best friends.

“Hello you two,” Remus says, crossing over to kiss Lily on the cheek and James on the forehead.

“Hey Remus, how are you?” Lily shifts the wine bottle under her arm. Remus looks well considering the moon a week ago and James is practically bouncing with excitement, bless him.

“Good. You off to see Marly and Dorcas?”

“Mmhm.” Lily glances around. “Where’s Sirius?”

“Hi Lily!” Sirius calls from the bedroom.

Lily raises an eyebrow at Remus, glad the door isn’t within her eye-line else she’d probably see something she doesn’t particularly want to.

Remus looks the picture of innocence as he shrugs one shoulder and smiles crookedly. “Someone was impatient this morning and likes to pretend he’s in charge.”

James shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting towards the bedroom, and Lily pats him on the arm. It’s par for the course now, dropping James off, jittering with excitement at the Lupin-Black’s and colllecting him later, boneless and sated. What still doesn’t sit right is trying to equate the image she has of Remus—the studious boy who was her partner in Ancient Runes and always fell asleep on the sofa in the evenings—to the man James describes, or the one she glimpses in these early afternoons when she drops James off. She and James discuss it occasionally, usually in bed kissing and fumbling, and Lily will let the words slip from her mouth and say _what’s it like, babe?_ and James will describe his latest escapade with the duo and they will both come harder and faster than ever.

“Oh, typical Sirius, hm?” Lily laughs, her fingers in the crook of James’ arm. She can feel his pulse beating.

Before James has even opened his mouth, Remus smiles and nods his head towards the door. “Go on then.”

James’ face splits into a grin—Lily’s heart bursts to see it—and he leans down to take Lily’s face into his hands and kiss her on the mouth. Lily yields to him instantly, her hands going to those defined shoulders, broad from years of Quidditch, and presses into him. James pulls back with a short puff of hot breath and smiles. “Goodbye flower. See you tonight?”

“Mhmm,” Lily murmurs, smiling at the way James’ eyes go a little wide whenever they kiss. If anyone would ever have the balls—they wouldn’t—to say to her that James doesn’t love her if he could do something like this, then Lily would point them to moments like these and say James Fleamont Potter has more love in his little finger than the rest of you do. Lily doesn’t suffer fools, and she sees it in every millimetre of James how much he loves her. “Have fun, Potter.”

“You too, Potter,” James calls as he crosses over the living room towards the bedroom, already pulling his shirt off over his head. “Afternoon Padfoot...” The door shuts behind him and Lily laughs to herself.

Remus rolls his eyes and grins at Lily before calling, “Behave, both of you! No starting without me or you’ll be in trouble,” over his shoulder. He turns back to Lily. “You want a cuppa before you go?”

“Shouldn’t you…” Lily gestures towards the bedroom.

“Oh no,” Remus grins and Lily gets a glimpse of the man James recognises. “They can wait. If they don’t it’ll only be worse for them.”

“I don’t get it Remus,” she says as he spells the kettle to boil and pours them mugs of tea. “How you manage both of them, really.”

Remus passes her a mug and sips at his own. “With patience. A stern voice.” He smiles wryly and sips his tea. “And a really good backhand.”

Lily would’ve choked on her tea if he’d said that to her years ago, maybe even six months ago, but now, nothing shocks her when she thinks of James’ happiness, of her own happiness. “I see. Maybe I’ll have to try some of that out myself.”

Remus laughs and inclines his head in a way that makes Lily sure he’d end up on Hogwarts faculty one day, a nod that says _I’d be happy to teach, whenever you’d like_.

They talk for a while over mugs of tea and Remus fishes a packet of biscuits out of the cupboard. Remus asks how the house move went—well enough, fairly pain-free—and apologises again for the poor timing of the moon meaning that he and Sirius were up near Elgin for most of their useful time to help with moving furniture. Lily waves a hand, and the Garibaldi biscuit between her fingers, dismissively. It’s utterly fine, she confirms, apologising in turn that she kept James from them on the full moon but things really couldn’t be helped.

Lily tells him of the potion they are working on in her journal circle, one that might dull the effects of the moon on werewolves, help them retain their own minds in its silvery light. Remus looks slightly forlorn and Lily embraces him and presses her hands over his shoulders and down his spine to comfort him as much as she can in the face of such terrifyingly hopeful news.

At the end of her tea Lily sets her mug down and stretches her shoulders. “Okay, I’m off. You guys have fun.”

Remus grins and sets their mugs in the sink. “Oh we will. I’ll have him back by midnight, Mrs. Potter.”

Lily rolls her eyes. “Merlin, don’t. Effie’s Mrs. Potter, not me.” She snatches up the bottle of wine and pushes a curl of hair off her shoulder. “Oh, by the way, Rem. James has been so over-excited for the past three days he’s forgotten to put laundry away every time I’ve asked him.” She bites her lip and pats Remus on the arm. “Thought you’d like to know.”

“Oh, has he?” Remus’ eyes flash amber and Lily finds herself standing taller and drawing her hand back a little quicker than she usually would. “Good to know, Lils. Thank you.” He kisses her cheek. “Have a good time tonight. See you later.”

Lily crosses to the fireplace with an impish smile and pinches a bit of Floo powder from the ostentatious vase set upon the mantle. She watches Remus for a moment, striding over to the bedroom door and easing it open, sees a flash of skin from beyond his arm, and then turns and steps through the fireplace to Marlene and Dorcas’.


	10. would you sneak me a wristband?

“Good to know, Lils. Thank you.”

Oh, that _is_ interesting to know. James wouldn’t have told him either, Remus reckons. James is a brat but Remus wouldn’t have him any other way, and neither would Sirius. It’s a sort of quiet agreement he and Lily have come to, born over one too many bottles of elf-made wine and Lily levelling her finger at him and saying _if I can’t get him to stay on top of housework, then maybe you can, hey? _Remus presses a kiss to Lily’s fair cheek and steps back as she moves towards the Floo. “Have a good time tonight. See you later.”

He knows she’ll see herself out, and thinks, probably, by the scent drifting in from the bedroom, that if he left it any longer Sirius and James would stop behaving themselves.

He’d left Sirius cuffed to the bed this morning, face down, arse up, after the other man had woken him by climbing into his lap and grinding against his thigh and moaning into his mouth. Remus had kissed him breathless and wound his arms around Sirius’ waist, always loving the way his boyfriend was so delightfully pliant in the mornings, usually content, but that morning, maybe excitement for their date with James, he was effervescent.

“Don’t you want to wait for Jamie, love?” Remus had murmured into his neck, hands gliding down over the swell of his arse.

Sirius moaned. “No. No I don’t, c’mon Rem, let’s fuck.” Remus had obliged, to a certain extent, lavishly fingering Sirius open with handfuls of charmed lube to the soundtrack of Sirius moaning into his mouth, down his throat, across his collarbones.

“Up, love, hands and knees.” Remus slid to the side and kissed Sirius’ tailbone, sliding three fingers deep inside him again as soon as he was settled. With a breath Remus Summoned his wand and whispered _Incarcerous_ at Sirius’ wrists.

Sirius jerked at the sudden sensation of the rope cuffs lashing him to the head of the bed, shuddering. “Rem?”

Remus chuckled and Summoned Sirius’ favourite plug, pressing it against the pucker of Sirius’ arse and watching the ring of muscle twitch hungrily. Sirius moaned and Remus pressed it forward, letting Sirius shift and squirm, letting him breathe through the discomfort because Sirius knew his words and if he was moaning and not safe-wording then he would be fine. “You’re so rude sometimes, love,” Remus said conversationally, twisting the plug, his other palm pulling lightly on Sirius’ arse cheek to expose him even further for Remus to watch. “Jamie will be really upset if he knows you wanted to start without him. You don’t want that, do you?”

Sirius moaned and pressed back towards the sensation, the headboard rattling with a particularly strong pull of his wrists against the bonds. “No, Sir.”

“Good, I didn’t think so.” Remus gave the plug one last twist as it settled into place. He contemplated for a moment hitting it with that nifty little vibration charm he learned last year—they’ve had so much fun with that—but it seems unnecessarily cruel because it will be a few hours until James gets here. “So, you wait here then, hm. Until Jamie gets here. Just like this.”

Remus had waited for a moment, to see if Sirius would say anything, before he slipped off the bed and went about his day, leaving the door ajar and periodically peeking in to see that Sirius was indeed still how he left him, head down, arse up, gloriously exposed.

Remus isn’t sure whether James will have been good, as he’s been told to do, and just stripped and knelt next to Sirius, like he’s been asked to do, or whether—bloody brats—they’re already getting off. He crosses to the bedroom and eases the door open as quietly as he can to see if he’s right.

It turns out Remus knows Sirius and James far too well. Sirius, somehow, ever graceful and frustratingly flexible, has managed to twist onto his back whilst staying bound and is pushing his shoulders back to stretch up to James’ mouth. James is leaning over him, his hands in broad sweeps over Sirius’ flushed and desperate body.

“This doesn’t look like behaving,” Remus says, in his low voice that begets obedience. He’s never raised his voice to them, they don’t need it. James springs away from Sirius, hiding a grin and Sirius stretches out onto his back, his hips canted upwards to try and avoid pressure on the plug still buried in him. Remus would’ve thought a few hours like that might’ve taken some of the fight out of him but no, Sirius is grinning lecherously.

“Did I say you could move, Sirius? As you were. _Now_.” Remus might’ve been lenient with them years ago, the three of them still learning to move around each other together, but now, Remus runs their relationship like a tight ship. Remus asks, James and Sirius listen and obey, and when they don’t, they get punished. Sirius, knowing this, bites his lip and rolls back over, settling back into his prescribed position, head down between spread elbows, knees slightly apart, arse up. He looks _glorious_ in the afternoon sunlight, pale but flushed, the blush of exertion—Remus knows how that particular plug brushes against his prostate if he moves just a millimetre—like peonies on his skin, a sharp contrast against their dark bedsheets.

“And you, Jamie. Up, sit bloody properly—” James looks at him wide-eyed, his tongue in his cheek like he’s trying not to grin, but he obeys and shifts onto his knees, sitting straight up, chin tilted down, hands clasping elbows behind his back. He’s blushing too, his hair haywire, redness creeping down his copper and umber skin—the Magpies training is only honing his beautiful body more and more with each passing session—and his cock is already hard and jutting up against his stomach. It’s been two weeks and both of them are shuddering with excitement. It’s a good job Remus knows how to calm them down— “you know you shouldn’t goad him like that. Do you want him to get punished? Because you know you both get the same punishments no matter who is in the wrong.”

James bites his lip and Sirius snickers from his position amongst the sheets.

“Words, Jamie.”

“Mmmmhm… he looked good like that, couldn’t help myself.”

Remus tuts. “Both of you practically begging to be told off.” Remus draws closer and unbuttons the collar of his shirt, then the cuffs, and begins rolling the sleeves to his elbows. A buttoned shirt is a little unnecessary just around the flat but there’s something about the power of wearing a shirt, rolled to the elbows, the way both Sirius and James look at him when he’s dressed like that. Remus would wear the ugliest dress robes in existence if they looked at him like that. “Fortunately for you, loves, your dear wife just told me she asked you to put the clean washing away plenty of times in the past three days, and you’ve still not done it.”

James shifts his weight from hip to hip, still straight-backed, chin down, but doesn’t speak.

“Too excited for today? Too distracted thinking of this? Of us?” Remus smiles slowly, cuffing his other shirt sleeve. “Getting yourself all worked up thinking about it, what I have planned for you. Like Sirius did this morning? And look where that got him.”

Sirius whimpers softly and shifts his weight back and forth but he won’t get any relief like that, that’s the point of the position. James’ eyes flicker over to Sirius, Sirius’ arse right in his eye-line, and he shifts again too, his cock twitching.

Remus smiles at them both, they are his and it’s wonderful, so bloody desperate for whatever he will give them, and Remus will give them _everything_ and they needn’t even ask. His love for them, the three of them together, overflowing, abundant, spills out over him like the heat from a furnace into an already sweltering room, these two firecrackers burning and desperate before him. Remus shuts the bedroom door behind him with a tidy snap—both of them jump at the sound, James’ hazel eyes following him, Sirius trying to turn his head to watch—and strides over to the bed.

They are burning so bright, the two of them, his firecrackers, that it nearly hurts to look at them but Remus looks anyway because he can relish in their brightness for a moment and beam because it will only get brighter when he joins them on the bed and guides them all to the dizzying heights of pleasure.


End file.
